She was sleeping so calmly…
It was a rare view, she asleep at work. So very rarer than her superior, Roy Mustang, sleeping at his desk. Now he was crouching at her desk, watching her calm, sleeping face. He knew this face by heart. Several hair tufts fell down on her face. She looked so sweet, defenseless and delicate that Roy knew it couldn't be true. However, he couldn't help watching this face, face of woman he loved. He studied lines of her face, every shadow, the soft light caressing her cheek… she looked so innocent, so cute, so much younger than she actually was, so much calmer than he'd ever seen her awake… he felt a strong desire to touch her, but he knew he'd wake up if he did, and he didn't want this… she was sleeping so well… so he just kept standing here, still, watching this face, face he knew by heart, but he just wanted to watch it, to watch and study it for eternity…
…and he could, if she didn't wake up. For a while she looked at him, half-asleep, with this rare dreamy expression, but one look at Roy's desk made her wake up completely.
-Colonel, the document – the said in her official tune. Roy nodded and stood up, watching her gun about half an inch far from his nose. He withdrew to his work place.
He had to stay at work longer – Riza made him stay until he finished working. Eventually he was home an hour later than he expected. He came into, locked the door from inside, dropped his coat and uniform just on the floor, put on a casual t-shirt and trousers and opened the drawer he kept his biggest treasures. He took off watercolors, paper and set of paintbrushes and he started painting.
Just as he remembered, her sleeping face, which he'd been watching for a long time before. He painted every single detail, every single eyelash, shadows they put on her cheeks, her slightly opened mouth, every tuft of her hair, even shades of her fair skin. He was painting and it was now all his world. He's been painting for a long time, every of his watercolors, which he painted always by heart, was very detailed.
When the watercolor was all painted, Roy still didn't feel it was enough, so he decided to paint her dreamy, still not fully woken up. He started painting again. He saw this expression only for a while, but he remembered it so vividly…
Half-opened eyes, dreamy face, unconscious sight, naughty hair on her face… so beautiful…
He had enough of watercolors now, so he took charcoal now. He drew some quick sketches of Riza with her gun, in action. Watercolors were still, charcoal was dynamic.
After he finished drawing, he started looking for a place to hang his new art. It wasn't very easy, as almost all the walls were covered with his paintings of Riza. They were either calm watercolors or lively charcoal pictures. He had some watercolors of Riza asleep, too. One of them, he stopped to see, was Riza fourteen-year-old, wrapped in a sheet… it was so hot summer…
Eventually he found some free place. He hang new art and went to kitchen to make some tea.
He had art here, too. Mostly made when he was a teenager – pen sketches drawn next to alchemy notes, his experiments with poster colors, pencil sketches, on the stove there was even a clay sculpture. All was showing Riza and only Riza.
Roy drank his tea and smiled. I must take Riza here one day, he thought.
